


all the wrong reasons

by annarasumanara



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Stays, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complicated Relationships, Examination of the Jedi Code and Anakin's possessive tendencies, Fix-It, Gen, I add more tags as they become relevant because god do I hate tagging, I love my chaotic space family so I must make them suffer, Questionable whether this is for better or for worse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annarasumanara/pseuds/annarasumanara
Summary: Ahsoka stays. Whether that actually solves anything is up for debate.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85
Collections: WIP Hell





	all the wrong reasons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shipambrosia_bree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipambrosia_bree/gifts).



**reason one.**

* * *

It all happens too quickly.

One moment, Ahsoka is looking up at Chancellor Palpatine, teeth clenched in anticipation of her overwhelmingly (inevitably) guilty verdict, the next Anakin is making yet another one of his daringly last second rescues, effortlessly interrupting such a high-profile trial as only he, the Hero with No Fear, could.

She forgets sometimes that Anakin is one of _the_ heroes of the Republic during the ongoing war effort.

When they’re in the midst of blaster fire, the 501st use that moniker almost affectionately when Anakin’s plans amount to barely a little more than “we go in and we win” with him at point. In the lulls between each battle, there are times when Ahsoka comes across the holovids of him and Master Obi-wan only to feel she’s being presented with complete strangers - far too pristine strangers who haven’t been worn down by arduous campaign after campaign, a lifetime’s worth of completely (un)necessary sassing, and Anakin’s everso reliable quota of ship crashing.

But now, Ahsoka is so, so, grateful for all the absurd, life-shortening nonsense she’s suffered through with (and because of) Anakin. If there’s one thing Anakin Skywalker is, it's viciously loyal, and he will always go above and beyond for the people he’s sworn to protect.

 _You did it,_ Ahsoka wants to say so badly, barely able to process that, no, she wasn’t going to die at the hands of the very Republic she had given her life to. _Anakin, somehow - no, because it’s you, of course you would pull it off -_

He steps aside, and in spite of everything Ahsoka’s gone through thus far, she can’t bring it in herself to feel vindictive. She just wants this whole ordeal to end, wants to crawl back into her bed at the Jedi Temple, wants to wake up in hopes that this is all just some twisted, stress induced nightmare.

Then Ahsoka sees Barriss Offee, behind him shackled in cuffs, as if -

 _No,_ she thinks in despair, heart somehow sinking lower than it already has. She remembers the Mirialan bidding her farewell with a soft “be safe” while she was on the run in Coruscant, how she had confided in Barriss that she was definitely being framed for the bombing when this whole time, it had been her all along.

 _This can’t be right. It can’t!_ she internally protests, even when the proof is right there in Anakin’s unwavering conviction and the lack of resistance on Barriss’s part.

“Barriss,” Ahsoka manages shakily. “Is this true?”

Her friend doesn’t look up, a troubled frown Ahsoka can no longer read upon the Mirialan’s face.

“Tell them the truth,” Anakin says threateningly, pointing up at the Chancellor.

Barriss’s face changes, mirroring almost perfectly the sheer scorn upon Anakin’s before she steps up quietly.

“I did it,” she says immediately.

And if it were somehow even possible, Ahsoka’s day suddenly gets even worse. The rest of her (former, traitor, would let you take the blame, would let you _die_ in her place if she had gotten away with it) friend’s speech echoes emptily in her thoughts, the words rattling like dismembered battle droid limbs crashing to the ground.

It’s more than she can stand to bear right now.

(If anything, she had reached that point long, long ago, in that holding cell with Letta Tormund’s lifeless body, a blaster pointed at the back of her head.

 _“I can’t say I blame you, Commander Tano, but all the same - you’re under arrest.”_ )

In the same gruff, matter-of-fact tone he would have used to sentence Ahsoka to death, the Chancellor orders the Temple Guards to take Barriss away, seemingly unmoved by her story.

Would that have been her had she been found guilty? Ahsoka morbidly wonders. Waved away so casually away to be unceremoniously shuffled along to her eventual execution? She tries not to think about it - she really does, but she can’t help but be overcome with how small and insignificant and _meaningless_ she feels.

How she’s felt through this entire ordeal, if anything. In spite of everything, this doesn’t feel like a victory at all. But when she looks up and sees Anakin smiling, she tries to smile back. Yes, she’s alive, and that’s a miracle in and of itself.

That’s what’s important, right?

And like a sandstorm, just as fast and sudden as the one that swept her up into this mess in the first place, Anakin spirits her away in a protective flurry away from the court chamber the moment he’s allowed to be by her side, the Jedi High Council be damned. No one dares approach the master-padawan pair, not when Anakin’s eyes blaze like he’s on the war path once more. One does not need the Force to know to tread lightly around Anakin Skywalker when he is not happy.

Before she even knows it, they are already back at the Jedi Temple thanks to some incredibly illegal flying on Anakin’s part. Ahsoka doesn’t even have the energy to muster up a comment about how many traffic laws he must have broken that time, and mildly, because it is a constant as reliable as his almost comedic hatred for sand and his tendency to crash almost every ship he gets his hands on, Ahsoka finally remembers that Anakin has never been one for intangible rules and law where they threaten to get in the way of what he aims to accomplish.

She stumbles a little, legs suddenly losing the little strength in them left, when she hops off the speeder, but Anakin is already there to steady her, holding her so carefully by her shoulders that it still startles her, even now. Anakin is the furthest thing from elegant and cautious - if anything, he is the embodiment of the complete opposite, but he’s always, always been so careful with her from the moment he accepted her as his padawan.

Anakin pushes her disoriented form all the way back to their shared quarters, all while glaring at any passersby (judging by how they opt to politely look elsewhere, and well, it’s a classic Anakin thing to do to get his way) they run into along the way.

Ahsoka hears the door hum shut behind them as she stumbles in, Anakin still keeping her upright. Even now, it’s all so surreal.

In the dead silence, all except for their breathing, Ahsoka can feel the blood throb beneath her skin, the steady rise of her chest, every single blink of her eyes, the steady pulse of thoughts beneath her skull.

Her body is still too afraid to cease functioning. Even when the inevitably guilty verdict was about to be passed onto her, Ahsoka hadn’t been ready to die.

By the Force, Ahsoka thinks, torn between laughing in disgust and crying in despair, she was nearly _put to death_ for something she didn’t do.

Ahsoka lets that sink in. It’s so ironic that she’s constantly risking her life out on battlefield after battlefield, yet it’s the Republic itself that almost put an end to her. If she had any fight in her left after being caught that second time, that guilty verdict would have (has already) destroyed whatever remains.

If she had been executed, how would they have done it? She should know this, Ahsoka thinks, but her head is full of complicated battle plans, the names of far too many fallen comrades, and informal mantras (platitudes) meant to keep her going through all of it instead. It’s all she’s known since Christophis.

...Would she have become one with the Force, even if she had been cast out of the order by no fault of her own? Ahsoka wants to believe that she would have. That no matter what mistakes had been made, the truth would have prevailed as long as she had known it to be true. 

But it almost hadn’t. If she hadn’t had a Master like Anakin, it would have been the end. Not even Master Obi-wan or Master Plo would have fought her the way he had. Oh, Ahsoka dimly thinks, she had been so, so _lucky_ to be Anakin Skywalker’s padawan.

She stumbles her way into a seat, reeling at everything that has happened far too quickly. All of it is too much for her to process in such a short time.

“You okay, Snips?” he asked, voice filled with so much concern for someone so quick to anger and rage.

“M’fine. Just… Just tired.”

Anakin kneels down in front of her, an affectionate smile on his face that he dares not show before the other Jedi. Only then does he take her into a tight embrace, holding her as if it would be the last time he would ever get a chance, as if he hasn’t just saved them both that fate.

“You’ll have plenty of time to get some much needed rest now.”

(Would they have let him see her, had the verdict gone through? Ahsoka knows she shouldn’t think about it, and yet -

_“They wouldn’t let me in to talk to you!” he had shouted at her, his distraught voice echoing through the pipes, telling her something she already knew but didn’t want to [couldn’t] acknowledge._

_“You could have tried harder!” she had fired back, her tone raised just as much as it would have been during one of their far too casual mid-battle arguments._

Oh, it feels so unfair, so cruel of her to have said that, but she had been so alone, so afraid, so betrayed -)

 _It feels so warm_ , Ahsoka thinks dimly. Warm isn’t something she’s felt a lot of ever since she had been on the run to prove her innocence.

His comm rings, breaking the silence, but Anakin doesn’t pull away, even if Ahsoka starts just a little at the sound. She can feel his arm shift against her shoulder blades as he turns it towards himself to speak.

“Skywalker.”

“Anakin -” Obi-wan’s voice begins, in that disapproving tone they both know so well.

Ahsoka doesn’t hear the rest, mood quickly dropping back into the hopeless cesspool Anakin managed to drag it out of.

Obi-wan. What had Obi-wan thought of all this, when Ahsoka was suddenly taken into custody, when Anakin was forced to chase down his own student, when he had sat there with the rest of the Council, awaiting the Chancellor to pass down the court’s verdict?

Anakin looks to her, face just as grim as hers Ahsoka suspects. An immediate council summon, even from Obi-wan, is far more than either of them can stomach right now.

“All right,” Anakin says, even though his expression says the complete opposite. His hold on Ahsoka has grown even tighter somehow. “We’ll be right there.”

She can’t look at him, a sinking feeling clawing at her insides. Nothing good ever comes from standing before the Council. Even before Anakin (and how it shocks Ahsoka how far away that feels, even if they haven’t been master and padawan for very long), Ahsoka had always been a troublemaker in her own right. Now, Anakin’s own trepidation and anxiety mix with her own through the Force until she can’t tell where hers ends and his begins. The thought of going to the Council, even with everything seemingly resolved, is more than enough to make her want to crawl into bed and never emerge.

“It’s okay,” Anakin murmurs reassuringly once he cuts the connection. “It’s over now, I promise. I’ll be here for you, no matter what the Council could possibly throw at us.”

She tries to smile, she really does. “It’s you and me, Skyguy. Like always.”

But something in her knows deep down, that this isn’t the end. Like a haze, she’s overcome with everything - the terror, the betrayal, the despair, the acceptance. No amount of denial will convince her body, her mind, her heart that it’s finally over.

* * *

When Anakin walks away to stand with the Council, Ahsoka suddenly feels so alone, against all better judgement. She knows she shouldn’t feel this way. It is not the Jedi way. She recalls warnings of attachment: how she and Anakin are infamously known as an unconventional duo by dynamic alone, the criticisms often levied against him for his emotions, the not so whispered concerns that he may be dragging her down that very same (dangerous) path.

By the Force, looking back, she’s surprised that the council didn’t change their minds somewhere along the way and decide that their pairing together was a big mistake. It had always been in the back of her mind that they were under constant scrutiny because of the unique circumstances that brought them together. Ahsoka had always worried that this would be what separated them, were it not a sudden death on the battlefield.

But never something like this.

Ahsoka frowns, drawing in on herself when she knows she shouldn’t. She’s afraid (wary) when she knows she shouldn’t be. “So, where do we go from here?”

“I’m so sorry,” Anakin says immediately, so full of emotion even as he falls back into the more dignified persona of a Jedi Knight. “About everything.”

He means every single word, and his unwavering conviction - the fact he has always believed in her, to the very end - coaxes her into bringing her guard down. As long as he’s here, she knows that she’ll be safe.

“You have our humble apology, Little Soka,” Master Plo immediately follows, an act that means so much to Ahsoka in light of everything she had gone through, everything they had gone through. When Master Yoda had said that their vote was not unanimous, Ahsoka knew from the bottom of her heart that Master Plo, at the very least, still had some faith in her. “The council was wrong to accuse you.”

Ahsoka should tell them thank you. Thank you for doing what they could, for maintaining in their hearts that she was not guilty even if it hadn’t meant all too much in the end, even if there were those who had -

“You have shown such great strength and resilience in your struggle to prove your innocence,” Master Tiin then says, and it all comes crashing down.

The black haze that’s been clouding her mind since this whole ordeal began deepens. It makes her think of the nightmarish stories from the 501st about all the ground battles on Umbara - of fighting through an endless night, not knowing what was in there with you other than that they were the enemy.

She’ll never truly be able to understand what happened down on Umbara with Master Krell, but Ahsoka thinks she understands, just a little, what it must be like not know what lay before you, only to find that perhaps the most dangerous enemy of all was -

Was there, right besides you.

(It’s a treacherous, awful thought, Ahsoka knows. But she cannot help it, cannot change the paranoia, the anxiety, the fear that courses through her veins ever since Letta Tormund breathed her last breath.)

“This is a true sign of a Jedi Knight,” Master Mundi adds.

 _A Jedi Knight?_ Ahsoka can’t help but think, more affronted than anything else. It’s not an emotion she had been expecting to feel, going into this conversation, and she desperately hopes that no one can sense the indignation that threatens to boil up to the surface beneath her skin. Then again, if they truly could search that deeply into her soul, they would have known that there was no way she could have committed the crimes they had given her up over.

What the kriff did any of this nightmare have to do with being a Jedi?

“This was actually your great Trial,” Master Windu states solemnly. “Now we see that. We understand that the Force works in mysterious ways -”

Ahsoka doesn’t hear anything after that. It’s a statement that embitters her beyond belief, makes her question everything she’s known, everything she’s trained for thus far, every little thing that has led up to this series of events - her life in its short entirety - and to this very moment itself.

 _In the end, everything worked out, didn't it?_ she tries to tell herself, in hopes of hushing the wounded part of her that is still mistrusting and angry and _cannot forget_.

She was found innocent. The real culprit was caught, and the Council is admitting their mistake, tactless as they can be about it. It's far more than she was expecting, and yet they don’t understand at all, even now. Not when Barriss stood before the court, defiant and disappointed. Not when Anakin and Padme had fought so hard for her. Not when she pleaded “not guilty”.

Ahsoka still doesn’t understand how things even got to this point. Surely, everything she had done for the Republic _had_ to have meant something, right? And yet, they all (not all, she tries to tell herself, even as her battered heart _seethes_ ) had turned their backs on her so easily.

“They’re asking you back, Ahsoka," Anakin says so softly, startling her out of that whirl of twisted, awful feelings that she just _can’t_ let go into the Force no matter how hard she tries.

“... _I’m_ asking you back,” he slowly adds as if it makes all the difference, his voice so full of that secretive, deep affection that he rarely shares with her.

It does.

And it doesn’t.

When Anakin extends his mechanical hand out to her, her padawan beads for her to take back, something about the sight - of the beads that should have always been hers in his hand, as if he was choosing her after all this time - irrevocably repulses her. She should be happy. Isn’t this what she wanted?

To be accepted back into the Order after being expelled for a crime she didn’t commit because that was how things were supposed to be. To become the Jedi Knight that she and Anakin believe she can be. To go back to being Skyguy and Snips because she can’t think of a better place to be in this galaxy.

However, the unpleasant feeling curling up in her stomach refuses to go away. She looks up at him and immediately looks back down to the beads.

 _Take it,_ the tired part of her screams, so sick being plagued with doubts and fear. _This is what you’ve fought so hard to prove. This is what you’ve been working toward for as long as you have known._

 _Don’t,_ the other hisses. _Nothing you’ve done matters to them. No matter how hard you’ve tried to prove yourself, if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s the end. Your efforts thus far meant nothing to them._

The damage has already been done. None of this is okay, and she shouldn’t go quietly along with this -

But everything she’s done to stay alive, to prove her innocence. Wasn’t it all for this very moment?

Ahsoka looks back and forth, torn up with indecisiveness and a fear that she can’t even put into words. She isn’t even sure if it’s telling her to go or stay, but the sight of her beads is unbearable. She thinks of the way her head had jerked back when they had been ripped out, how it had broken her heart in one single movement.

She looks up, only to see Anakin encouragingly smiling at her as if this is just another small stumble in her training because he knows she’s strong enough to get back up. Of course, he would want her back, after everything he’s done to prove her innocence.

Anakin’s eyes beckon her quietly to come back because she’ll always have a place by his side, and she nearly breaks then and there.

(Ahsoka means so much to Anakin that it hurts her to know how true it is.)

But if she takes his hand, she’ll…

She’ll be the youngest Jedi to be knighted. She’ll have beaten Anakin, of all people, by several years -

No, Ahsoka suddenly thinks _._ This isn’t what she wanted. It proves that, in the end, they (who she means, she’s not even sure anymore because Ahsoka has come to realize that she knows _so_ little) just don’t understand. They may never understand because that’s just how the Jedi are.

She almost makes the mistake of looking back into Anakin’s hopeful blue eyes once more, and instinctively, she begins to reach out, only to draw back. Gently, she closes his fingers around her padawan beads and hopes that she can somehow stop his heart from breaking anymore than she has her own.

Anakin Skywalker has always, always cared too much.

The urge to apologize comes even before the shock gets a chance to fully wash over Anakin’s face. She can feel her own face twisting with what she’s done to them both. It hurts so much knowing it’s her fault, but at this point, is there any point in turning back?

 _They never should have told me to leave,_ she wants to say, but she knows how wrong it would be. Because then, she would have denied Anakin’s efforts to prove her innocent from the very start, and Anakin deserves so much more than what a disillusioned, battered (not) padawan can hope to offer now.

“I’m sorry, Master,” she says quietly, forcing herself to speak against a current of remorse. No, it’s far too late to start feeling regret for a choice that seems impossible to rescind. “But I’m not coming back.”

She turns around and walks away before anyone gets a chance to speak. A part of her is so afraid that even a single word might break this fragile will she’s managed to piece back together. Even as she hears Anakin's sharp inhale and the heavy silence of all the other council members, Ahsoka refuses to look back.

Even as she feels like she’s leaving behind bits and pieces of herself in the only place she’s known as home.

* * *

This is the first time Ahsoka's ever really considered the view exiting the temple, at least like this with her planning on never returning. It breaks her heart more than anything else, but she can feel the dread building up inside of her. What is she supposed to do now?

“Ahsoka, wait!” she hears distantly. His heavy footsteps clatter across the empty entrance way so desperately. _Anakin_ , she smiles sadly. _Of course._

“Ahsoka,” Anakin pleads, the way he says her name so painfully familiar. Reassuring. Safe. “I need to talk to you!”

She slowly comes to a halt, bracing herself to face him. At the very least, she has to hear him out. If she doesn’t have the strength to do this, what hope does she have of making it out there alone?

When Ahsoka turns around, Anakin has already caught up, short of breath as he is. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, as if he somehow hasn’t witnessed all she’s gone through thus far.

“The Council didn’t trust me,” she argues, “so how can I trust myself?” She crosses her arms, drawing away because Ahsoka isn’t sure what more she can say at this point to explain the drifting helplessness and lack of direction she feels. She hadn’t thought that Obi-wan or Master Plo would condemn her, but they had been outvoted and silently ready to let her go to her death. It’s not something she can forget, and Ahsoka thinks it will haunt her for many nights to come.

_“I would never take the lives of innocents,” she had insisted, feeling so small before the scrutiny of the entire Council._

_“There is evidence to the contrary.” Master Mundi retorted._

_Immediately, she had wanted to argue otherwise._

_“I believe in compassion and refrain from anger and aggression. I am Jedi to my very core,” she wanted to say, but would they have listened? Or was this all just a formality, just as Anakin had so angrily claimed?_

(Those words tasted of blood, even if they had never made it past her throat. Then came the paranoia and the doubts. Ahsoka thought of a lightsaber that cut so easily through flesh. Taking lives was not the Jedi way in the first place, and yet she’s seen it so many times, so much so that it had settled into her heart as something that had to be done.

Was that what the Council had seen in her? Some seed of the Dark that had taken root upon her very soul?)

There’s a shocked, appalled look on Anakin’s face that would have made her laugh if they had been shouting at each other on the battlefield. “What about me?” His metal hand taps his chest like a solemn, unbreakable vow he’ll take with him to the grave. “I believed in you. _I stood by you._ ”

“I know you believe in me, Anakin,” Ahsoka repeats, hoping he’ll understand if he hears the words from her mouth. “And I’m grateful for that. But this isn’t about you - I can’t stay here any longer, not now.”

She turns away, reeling from the severity of her own words. Oh, it hurts so much more to confess it herself.

“The Jedi Order is your _life_ ,” Anakin persists, and she braces herself, praying her resistance won’t crumble beneath his disbelief and grief. “You can’t just throw it away like this!”

The Jedi Order had been her life at one point. However, the Clone Wars had suddenly taken its place, along with Anakin, Master Obi-wan, Rex, and the rest of the 501st. She can’t imagine herself without them anymore, and that frightens Ahsoka.

“Ahsoka, you are making a _mistake_.”

Ahsoka wants to ask him to come with her because she’s always known. He loves Padme, and she him (and if Ahsoka is somehow wrong on this one, she’ll eat an entire bucket of bugs). But he’s stayed, stayed in spite of this. Because the Jedi Order _is_ Anakin Skywalker’s life. Because _he_ can’t throw it away, no matter how he feels about it.

She’s heard the stories of how Anakin was treated before he was the Hero with No Fear. It makes Ahsoka sick, hearing about how he had been a pariah within the Jedi Temple’s very walls. It should be a reason for her to stay because if she goes, it’ll only be another (unfair) reason for the others to doubt Anakin.

 _This isn’t about Anakin,_ she tries to tell herself. _It’s about you._

But it’s Anakin, and Anakin has always, always been important to her from the very moment he accepted her as his padawan. And ever since then, it feels like she’s known him forever. And against her better judgement, because there's a part of her that is afraid for all the wrong reasons, because of Zygerria, because of Rako Hardeen, because Anakin had done anything and everything to get her acquitted. Because -

No, this isn't about Anakin. He isn’t her responsibility. It shouldn't be about him. But it is, and it's not, and Ahsoka is suddenly overcome with this immense sense of dread that if she walks away now, this may be the very last time she'll see Anakin as the Anakin who she loves.

Because she does, and she hopes (she knows) that she always will.

"All right, I’ll stay," she says so hesitantly, pushing back against the pride that wants her to stand her ground on this decision - a decision she may have made too hastily, a decision she may just as hastily be taking back. "But only because you asked."

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Anakin all but scoops up her smaller frame off her feet and into a nearly spine breaking hug. “I’m so glad I chased after you. Snips, I swear you won’t regret this, I _promise._ ”

“I know, Skyguy. I know.”

A lingering sense of dread clings even tighter to Ahsoka. Her uncertainty, when laid out in front of her like a long winding road, feels like a fatal foolishness. A foolishness that she had to commit to now. A foolishness that she would definitely been scolded for were anyone else been privy to her thoughts.

 _Was_ this the right decision? She'd seen what the Jedi Council had almost let come to pass. By the Force, she'd almost died because of them. But no, she isn't staying because of them. Ahsoka is staying because _Anakin_ asked her to, because he wanted her stay, because a part of her deep down is so worried that she _needed_ to stay.

(And then, something deep inside her questions whether even _that_ is a good enough reason to stay.)

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been thinking about for a while. After religiously stalking and devouring what feels like the entire Anakin & Ahsoka tag, I saw a lot of "Anakin follows Ahsoka's lead and leaves the Order", so I couldn't help but wonder about the opposite scenario.
> 
> I have a lot of feelings about the bond that these two share, and I genuinely think that Ahsoka being there for Anakin in the events that followed would have made all the difference. Of course, I don't necessarily think it would have been smooth sailing if Ahsoka had chosen to stay, and I hope I can explore that properly, since the idea of Ahsoka staying and reinforcing Anakin's misgivings and his possessive streak was too much to resist. 
> 
> I hope you can forgive any slips I make with regards to the SW universe. I'm not the best at remembering those kinds of details. 
> 
> These chapters are be on the shorter side as a personal challenge, though I _might_ have failed with this first chapter. (But I needed to get where I did so I did what I must, haha.) I'm hoping for ~3K length chapters.
> 
> Nevertheless, I'd love to hear what some thoughts on this premise. :)
> 
> Until next time, then!
> 
> Edit: Saw the new Clone Wars episode, and that one line made me lose my mind. Incredible.


End file.
